Of Hats and Hearts: Book I
by FH96
Summary: After Alice Kingsleigh leaves Wonderland, Hatter becomes a wreck. His love never blossomed, and he wants Alice to return to be with him forever. Will his Alice ever come back? PLZ R&R!
1. Chapter 1

"_You could stay," Hatter piped up optimistically behind her. He secretly, pensively hoped that the girl would reside. He didn't want to lose her again, ever. When he'd seen her only days ago, the fact that most all of her muchness was gone saddened him to a great extent. But she'd gained it back; she did have the power to slay the Jabberwocky, after all (much less make him, the Mad Hatter, Futterwacken in god only knew how long)._

"_What an idea! I wish I could stay, Hatter, but I have questions that need answering," Hatter saw his friend squeeze the vial tightly with her porcelain hand, "things that need doing," Her eyes. Oh, her eyes were so, deep. So distant; so beautiful. Hatter molded his pale face into the biggest frown he had ever, ever made. He silently begged her to stay. His mentality begged and begged and begged, tears rolling down his cheeks all the while._

_ When he saw her tip her head to the blood, his stomach flipped. Oh, how he wished to be dead right then. He suddenly snapped himself out of the painful trance he was in, staring dejectedly into Alice Kingsleigh's distant, russet eyes. He ever so slightly inched closer to the flaxen young woman, smiling tenderly to hold back a wave of tears that was sure to come. Hatter tucked a strand of her golden curls behind her ear, and he saw her grin._

_ He delicately moved his face to her ear, brushing his bruised, calloused lips against her cartilage. Hatter felt his friend tense, shivering to some extent at his touch._

"_Fairfarren, Alice," Hatter felt his whisper tickle her ear, and he smirked quietly to himself. Hatter backed his head away slowly, noting how Alice watched his every move with great melancholy. The maiden suddenly began to fade from view, her body becoming nothing more than what it once was; a memory in the back of his mind, locked to where it would forever stay._

_ He tried to take hold of her suddenly, attempting to keep the girl from dissipating into nothingness. But all the Hatter could manage to grasp was the woman's bandage that concealed her wound from the wicked Bandersnatch. _Damn that bloody beast_, Tarrant said outwardly. He held the garment to his cheek, inhaling Alice's scent of roses and sugar, pearls and honey. Oh, he so wished that she hadn't gone. Hatter dropped to his knees on the chessboard, and began to weep for his friend._

The Orraculum sat there in front of him, unrolled to the newest prophecy at hand. Hatter traced his finger from Frabjous Day to Umberplechin Day to Fampartkin Day, finally meeting with a new picture inscribed into the unruly parchment. He saw a woman, with long, flowing curls receiving a golden circlet to signify her coronation as new queen of Underland. _Noricum Day_ was inked under the image.

"That must be her. It has to be. I'd know her anywhere," Hatter uttered superficially. His feral eyes fluttered to the rest of the scroll, glancing to see if another image would appear. But alas, no animated icon came into view on the ruddy paper, and Hatter turned his attention back to a masterpiece he had set his mind to working on until a certain young lady's return. His project, must you know, was a hat. Four round, seven up, to make the measurements precise. Tarrant's eyes averted from the rose petal sitting on his desk that he had yet to sew into the topper's velveteen circumference, so as not to emit waves of suppressed sorrow that he'd locked away for so long. The hat was a gorgeous ebony, strewn about by a coating of white suits, those of hearts, clubs, spades, and diamonds. Tarrant's fingers worked diligently around the cap, nipping, sewing, tucking, and wrapping all the while. His hand found a red ribbon, pressed to lay its silken frame gracefully across the wooden desk. Tarrant grabbed the silk, tenderly wrapping it around the hat's mid-section, making sure the ribbon just barely kissed the rim of the topper.

Now for the rose petal. Hatter sighed miserably at the sight of the alabaster blossom, a tear kissing his cheek as it slipped silently to his lips. The saltiness met his bottom lip with a sting, Tarrant wincing in pain until the tear had been wiped away. The petal was representative of his friend, and, he decided this moments later, that he would not sew in the petal until his friend returned. Little did Tarrant discern that this certain friend's onset would be closer than he'd formerly assumed.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Well hey there readers! I kinda left this story to rot for a while :( I really shouldn't have. Here's a filler chapter to make up for it. Something epic is coming later this week. I promise. And yes, I will be _religious_ about posting. ;) Please review! Love you all3

Lewis Caroll and Tim Burton own everything having to do with AiW. I don't. Poop.

* * *

_Home_. Alice was finally home. The walk off of the docks was strained and wobbly; "sea legs" makes one weak on land, you know! She smiled, waved in glee at the throng of family that slowly swallowed her, asking of how China was, how rich its culture was. One uncle even asked about the oriental cuisine.

"Simply marvelous, Uncle!" Alice said on her way to an awaiting coach. She shut the door to the carriage behind her, sticking one white glove out of the window to bid a final adieu. As soon as the coach left the family's sight, Alice took a well deserved seat on the back cushion. Mr. Ascot, who had escorted her to the carriage, sat across from her, a smile plastered to his slowly aging face.

"Distant, are we, Alice?" He asked, noticing Alice's grey eyes watching the window to her left.

"Quite, Master Ascot. You see, I miss someone. This 'someone', I haven't seen in almost two years. He's quite the curious fellow; with a head of vibrantly ginger hair, and an adorable top hat! He loves having tea with me on Sundays. Oh, I miss him so, Master Ascot! When will we arrive upon your estate?" Alice quickly realized she'd babbled. Darn that mouth of hers. It was so hard for her to keep it under lock and key.

"I'd say not more than a half of an hour's drive, dear. Is this a man you favor, if you do not mind my intruding?"

"Well, that's what I'm not entirely sure of. I do love him, but I do not know of his feelings for me. Love is quite the confusing thing, isn't it?" Alice turned from her intense stare at the window to flash a brief smile to Mr. Ascot.

"Love is very confusing, Alice; and yet so utterly simple. It is so simple that it is confusing!" He laughed, _what a contradiction_. The rest of their drive was spent conversing of love, and Alice's odd suitor, with the adorable top hat, vibrantly ginger hair, and an obsession with tea.

* * *

"Alice, dear! We've arrived. We're home!" Lord Ascot gently shook Alice by the shoulder. She'd passed out on the couch only moments after they'd finished speaking of love. As the coach pulled to a halt, Alice rose sleepily from her crumpled position on the seat, stretching to rid her muscles of kinks and knots received over the period of the drive.

Alice grabbed her blue trench coat that she'd shed earlier in their journey home, quickly swinging the door to the coach open, and not bothering to take the steps. Instead she simply hopped from the floor, through the threshold, and on to familiar grasses. Alice glanced pack at Lord Ascot, as if asking if she could run to him. He smiled jovially, nodding and shooing her on. He told her servants would come for the luggage.

She ran to the gardens, calling sweetly for Nivens.


End file.
